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<title>Dinner Disaster by castiels_angel</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23507332">Dinner Disaster</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiels_angel/pseuds/castiels_angel'>castiels_angel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:08:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23507332</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiels_angel/pseuds/castiels_angel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He overindulged a little at her family’s dinner and ended up with a belly ache that could indicate just one thing. With no available bathroom in sight, he might not be welcome back at another family event.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dinner Disaster</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He felt a little weighed down after eating the seafood, corn, potatoes, and bread offered to him by his girlfriend’s family. He had been eating in moderation lately (well, trying to) and it had been a while since he allowed himself to just fill up like that. Damn, his jeans were snug at the waist and he wished he could unbutton them already. <br/>Where was Kate? Oh there, holding two ginormous plates of lemon cake in the corner of the room. She extended a plate out to him, smile immediately crossing her face as she noticed him. It was a big chunk of cake, cut rather carelessly, with drizzles of lemon glaze. <br/>It was amazing from the first bite. He savored each forkful, emitting a soft “mmmhmm” halfway through. Now he could tell there was less and less space available in his stomach. Heartburn was engaged. <br/>“I’m full,” he announced, just less than half the slice left on the plate. “Do you want this?”<br/>“I want you to have it,” was her reply as she licked icing off her fork. <br/>He noticed her aunt enter the room so he lowered his voice. “I’ll try but there’s not much room left.” He lifted a large bite into his mouth.<br/>She was glad he enjoyed his food today and ate a little extra. His previous bingeing days seemed so far behind and now she was concerned that he never treated himself. <br/>Suddenly he tensed, standing statue still.  Within a minute, Kates sister exited the room. “I’m sorry, but I can’t hold this any longer,” he preluded, letting out a quick, stinky burst of gas. “Ahhh. Seafood fucks me up, but I love it,” he admitted in a low tone.<br/>“How long were you holding that?” She asked, her nose burning from the smell. <br/>“Too long.” Next he let out an extended burp. “Oh that was nasty.”<br/>She hoped he would still be feeling slight effects by the time they got home. Just then, her uncle entered the room. “Is that the best you can do?” he joked, patting his beer belly and then forcing out a louder burp. “Ooh. Guess you might have to work up to that one.” With that he grabbed a Bud Light out the fridge and left.<br/>Kate wrinkled  her nose and leaned in to whisper, “I think he did something else.”<br/>“That’s what I’m about to have to do again.” He was feeling ill now, his stomach churning with uneasy motions. He hoped he wouldn’t have to shit for another couple hours, but decided to scope out a bathroom anyway. It was locked, someone’s grunting audible a few feet outside the door as they worked to push out a stubborn log. <br/>“Your shirt looks tighter.”<br/>“Feels tighter too. I feel bloated as fuck. Those potatoes are taking up room in there.” He rubbed his belly. “I sure hope no one comes in here for a minute...” with that, he let out another fart, one tat had been pent up for minute.</p>
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